Concepts of Me
by BlindHuntress
Summary: Goren's changing perceptions of himself, beginning at his mother's death to the last episode of Season 7. Goren/OC


**Concepts of Me**

By: BlindHuntress

_Disclaimer: Law and Order CI and its characters are owned by Dick Wolf_

_**Self concept: The perception each individual has of themself.**_

_"Believe in me, I know you've waited for so long, Believe in me, Sometimes the weak become the strong, Believe in me," _

_-_**Staind** "_Believe"_

..ooOoo..

Robert Goren came into the luxurious hospital room like a hurricane, forceful and filled with gnashing teeth, droplets of tears raging down his face.

"Where is she?" he roared in anguish as he rounded the corner and stumbled to a halt, for there she was.

His mother lay an inhuman shade of gray against the off white sheets, not gone long enough for her lips to turn blue, yet.

Goren's mind raced with information as he stared brokenly at his mother's corpse, calculating the time that the hospital had called his cell, when rigor mortis would set in, the release of bodily fluids-With a fierce clench of his jaw Robert stopped the onslaught of macabre thoughts, _No_, he thought, _I will not think on such things, just her. Just Mom._

She looked so frail that it made his massive legs begin to tremble. In the blur of tears he belatedly realized that there was a blot of color in the white room, a nurse sitting by the side of the bed in her soft yellow scrub bottoms and white top with yellow daisy print.

Goren quelled his emotions, tried _so_ _hard_ as he rapidly blinked and studied the young woman, jaw tight with raging feelings.

She was holding his mother's hand; her peachy skin wrapped securely about a rapidly graying appendage. With her free hand the woman was rubbing at her neck, most likely a necklace, probably a crucifix. Evidently his outburst hadn't disturbed her, but as a nurse came careening into the room from the hall behind him he figured others had heard.

"Sir I-"

The nurse holding his mother's hand looked up, soft cornflower blue eyes peering at him through the auburn strands that had escaped her ponytail.

"I've got it Marcia, thank you," she directed to the nurse behind his back, standing slowly; Goren could practically feel the other woman wringing her hands in nervousness; the man was huge, _especially_ compared to this willow of a woman next to his mother's body.

"Thank you Marcia," the nurse repeated and then slowly released his mother's hand and tucked it beneath the sheet snuggly fit about the body's waist.

Goren was torn between falling to his knees and letting out all of the emotions that had been eating at him for the last weeks; _forforever_, or carrying out business as he should, like the diligent son he always tried-_strived_ to be.

"Hello, you must be Mrs. Goren's son; the detective I assume," the nurse said with a kind smile and sad cornflower eyes. Her lips were soft pink and her eyebrows were neatly plucked, a darker shade of auburn than her hair.

Robert nodded brokenly and stumbled forward again like a marionette being jostled carelessly on its strings. Then the young woman was reaching out and taking the hand that he was extending so he could brace himself against the foot of the hospital bed. With small, lithe hands she wrapped them about his own; his so grotesquely larger than both of hers together, and squeezed them assuredly, "I'm so sorry for your loss, Detective."

Goren imagined that he could feel the icy touch of death that still lingered on the nurse's hand from his mother-the corpse, not feet away.

"_You barely come see me as it is Robert! And now you're here and you flirt with this…this little tramp! Some son you are! Your brother would never-He's my good boy, he's the good son! You shame me, Robbie!"_

He almost wished he could hear her shriek again.

"Thank you," he muttered, but not feeling it; just a stupid formality.

Goren broke from her touch to slide up to his mother's side and placed his hand on her frail shoulder, ice beneath the thin hospital gown.

A sob escaped him and he cursed his brother for being so useless, for leaving them both, for leaving _him_ alone to bear the burden of her death.

Then the nurse was behind him, he could feel her warmth permeate the air and by the tension he knew she was debating, whether to reach out her soft hand again to offer the comfort of touch.

"How long?" he asked hoarsely.

"We called as soon as she had passed," the woman answered immediately, her tone all business, but still kind.

"Did she…was she…" Goren cleared his throat and tried again, "Did she…ask for me?" Though he knew if she had it wouldn't have been a question, it would have been a demand: _Where is Robert?! Where is my son?!_ _Who are you?! Where has he left me this time?!_

"Actually," the nurse started, sounding bemused and Robert wondered how often she had cared for his mother, "she went suddenly, in her sleep, we wouldn't have known if I hadn't been in here to check on her."

"Was she already-" He couldn't say it.

"No, all of sudden she just began to breathe a little harder, a little slower and her heart rate began to drop in slow increments. So I held her hand and talked to her. She didn't respond at all to my voice and within moments, she was gone."

Robert felt a wrench of his heart, "You held her hand?" he asked weakly, brokenly. Someone had held her hand, someone had _cared_. Not even Frank cared, and he was her flesh and blood progeny, but this stranger…she had _cared_.

There was a tinkle of charms at her neck colliding together as she fiddled with them, "I did. She never did like to be alone for long," she laughed softly.

"No," Goren said with a nod. "I just left maybe three hours ago…I would've been here…"

Then her hand _was_ on his shoulder, "Yes, I was the one who told you that you should go home."

Robert turned and tiredly fell onto the side of the bed, precariously perched where the nurse had sat previously. Through blurry eyes; both from tears and lack of sleep, he strained to remember her face, one he was immediately struck as a face he just wouldn't forget; her face was _kind_. And she cared for his mother, so really, not a face that he could/should forget.

She smiled at him in sympathy, obviously recognizing that he was trying to place her, "You've been here everyday Detective, and always just barely running on fumes. You looked like you were about to drop dead on your feet, so I told you to go home and sleep, which you probably only just began to when we called. I know your type; you probably brooded instead of slept."

Goren couldn't even nod, his shoulders hurt from the weight they carried physically and emotionally. His head felt as if it would drop off his shoulders at any moment, it ached with a hollowness that was reflected in his chest.

There was a relief that he hated himself for, but also understood; survivor's guilt, which was common, as well as the emptiness one feels after losing someone who was such a force of gravity in one's life. His mother was the last tie that he really had to the world outside of Major Case; now…he had no one, nothing. Only the job and that was even becoming as unwelcoming as life outside of his occupation had been. Always he had been an outcast, a social leper, but now…now with his new Captain, Daniel Ross, it was becoming more substantial, more physical, more discouraging.

"Can we call anyone else? Any family for you?" she asked helpfully and oh so kind.

"No family," he said detachedly, haggard eyes on his mother's emaciated face, reflecting briefly on his brother, whom she had loved so much.Though his mother had been gone from him for a long time, since even before he could remember; because she had never really ever been there, even with all the meds, she really was finally _gone_. Her physical presence, the insanity, grief and pain that had associated itself with her in their many ordeals together as mother and son; mostly as enemies in her view point, was now gone, rapidly dissipating like a fog, turning into a mist and then there would be nothing.

"I'll bring the paperwork here later, for now…just be with her here, in the peace. She's finally _resting_, as she hasn't been able to in awhile, I would assume. She's no longer plagued by the voices, by the side effects of the medications; she's just…free now." The nurse squeezed his massive shoulder in another comforting gesture, "But don't be alone for too long, if you need me, I'll be at the nurses' station."

"Thank you." Goren suddenly declared, and he felt it, in his bones, the thankfulness. "Thank you, for being here with her. I know she wasn't…easy to be around. But…thanks," he trailed off, turned to see her paused in the doorway. Sunlight from the window dazzled off the golden cross at her throat and the blazing sun charm next to it.

With one hand on the doorframe and the other on the handle, prepared to give him some privacy she smiled, soft as a summer breeze and comforting in its genuine nature, "Sure, it was my pleasure."

Then she disappeared and Goren was left feeling like he was lost in a sea of daisies that blazed yellow in the sunlight, his only anchor to the world, to reality, was the chill from his mother's body. Idly, he reached into his jacket pocket and fiddled with his phone.

Should he or shouldn't he?

_Bobby Bobby Bobby, so alone, aren't we?_

Goren shuddered off Nicole's haunting voice and began to dial the only person he really ever called, the only person who could even be considered a friend, Alexandra Eames.

..ooOoo..

Eames arrived in a squeal of tires and sharp, fast footsteps. She was there when Goren signed the papers, started the process that he had always prepared for, funeral arrangements. While Goren scratched the pen across paper and made phone calls in between, the nurse in yellow and white moved the sheet over his mother's face with loving care and then with Eames' help began to gather his mother's belongings from around the room.

When they were done and Goren was finishing up his phone calls, his eyes followed the movements of the women in the room as they chatted quietly.

"I've got to be going, but I'll make sure that she's treated well. I've been here a little longer than I should have, so I'll be going now. If you have any questions ask Martie, the other R.N. at the nurses' station. If she can't answer a question, feel free to leave a message with her and I'll get back to you tomorrow."

Eames nodded, her dark golden head bobbing, "Thank you for all of your help."

The nurse paused, looking like she wanted to say something, but torn. Eames bent to catch her eye from the shadow of her downcast head, "I'm glad he's not alone," the R.N. whispered to the smaller detective, "Mrs. Goren, his mother, she wasn't an easy woman. It couldn't have been easy…I'm glad, "the nurse stated softly, raising her head to peer into Eames' green eyes, "I'm glad that he has someone, you."

Turning fully to her right the nurse met Goren's tired brown eyes, "My condolences, take care," she whispered and then in a blur of sunshine yellow she was gone.

When his eyes left the doorway through which she had left;_ right handed, riding on the coat tails of her second wind_, he met Eames' deep-in-thought gaze. He had had an affection for his partner for a long time; she was the only one who, even though she didn't understand him, still tried, still tried to be his friend and have his back. For staying his partner…for that fact alone he would forever be grateful to his much smaller half.

When his phone call was finished he closed his phone and sagged against the chair tiredly.

"C'mon Bobby," Eames said with a sad smile, "Let's get you home and then you can finally get some sleep."

Goren glanced at the outline of his mother's body under the sheet and felt as if he wanted to hug her once more, maybe feel her hug back as she hadn't done since she was a boy, since before the madness had taken over and all she had done was grab at him with hard, sharp, boney fingers.

"I haven't slept in a long time," he admitted in a sleepy slur.

Eames touched his arm, guided him through the doorway, "I know Bobby, but now you can. She's gone now, you can rest."

Gone…his mother was gone.

The relief…

The sadness…

The utter loneliness…

But he was so tired…and Frances Goren was finally able to rest without medications, without him assuring her that he wouldn't let the monsters, the bad men take her away to put her in the rubber room, the tight white jacket; wouldn't let them poke at her with their painful scary needles. Now she slept the sleep of the dead and he could finally sleep the sleep of the sleepless, the weary; dreamless and never ending in the black abyss of hopelessness.

**Author's Note:** _Please review! I want to know if I'm getting Goren's character right, or not. Review Review! PLEASE?!_


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